Champion
Ted Grant looks over the gym he founded and wonders when it all went gray? When did he stop having fun? Sometime after Ragnarok would be his guess. Zero Hour. Watching his best friends die. Or the last of his best friends. He looks in his hidden room at the portraits there and one by one he touches each, lingering on Hippolyta's for a moment. He looks at the JSA symbol on the round table and gives it a pat. "I so thought I'd figured it out: live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse. Man I screwed that up. All righty guys, I will see you soon." He closes the doors he exits onto the gym floor and takes a deep breath. The door sounds as a shadow looms. Perhaps accompanying it, but more likely a moment or two after, there are heavy boot steps the sort a pair of combat boots make as a massive individual enters. A mountain of a man in a trenchcoat and louchador's mask blocks the doorway. Seven feet of raw muscle, killer's hands decked in gloves with reinforced knuckles clutching just below the fur lining of his coat's collar as he heavily strides forth declaring in a voice that could be rumbling from the depths of the earth,"I see you are reminiscing on friends lost? Fear not. Someone desires to usher you along to visit them." With that, he removes the jacket, revealing bracers of some sort of metal with blemishes indicating use and a tight black muscle top. He is fully proportioned in the fashion of a true giant if the ripples of his legs beneath his black cargo pants are any indication. Likely any Asgardians would wonder at his heritage. Ted Grant looks his visitor over for a moment. He seems satisfied. He finally says, "I am Wildcat. I have fought alongside the best. I've beaten the Bat myself. I am looking for a good death ... I don't bear you any malice. You're one of the few people who is merciless but honorable to honor my request and I thank you for that. That witch Shiva said I could throw myself under a bus and not waster her time. Care for coffee before we start?" Bane is silent for a long moment, as if considering his words before replying,"No. I only drink water, but thank you. I see you know who I am, as well. There have been times recently that I have had to remind people of that. As for the Lady Shiva, she thinks overmuch of herself I agree. The best at what she does, and yet her nemesis maintains a humble public institution not ten minutes from where we stand relatively unmolested." The big man sets his jacket folded on a bench and strides over beside the ring. He inspects it with a grasp to a corner, shaking it mildly as if ensuring it would serve. Bane then confirms that,"This is adequate." Ted Grant gives a slight bow, keeping his eyes on Bane. Then he jumps into the ring barely touching the ropes. He gets into a fighting stance. He says with a smile, "I have had to remind people who I am and it is galling. People think history starts with them. I have a room here full of JSA memorabilia. It's worth a fortune to collectors. It's yours if you win. Have you anything to put against it?" Bane strains the rope of the ring as he climbs up in it himself, evidencing his extreme heavy weight for a physically fit man. He replies to this,"If you defeat me...hmm. A curious proposition. I don't usually do wagers. However. I do happen to have a few keepsakes of my own, albeit not so many as yourself. I have the mask I tore off of Batman when I broke his back, and the belt I took off of one Judomaster when I did the same to him. I will add these bracers I am wearing to the deal. They are constructed of promethium." Bane rolls his neck to one side, and then the other before swinging his tree trunk arms back and forth to loosen up. He moves with surprising ease for a mountain of muscle. Batman himself has commented on his freakish grace in the past. In fact Batman commented on that in an audio file Ted got access to. It was part of the reason he thought Bane was a good choice. He also had his eyes set on the Bat's mask. The promethium bracers ... fuck. He didn't realize those things were promethium. Then he reminds himself what he called Bane here for. He says sharply, "Let's be clear on this ... break my back if that is your wont but ... you finish me afterwards. Agreed? I've spent time in a wheelchair. Not again." Wildcat moves one foot forward, then in a semi-circle shifting his weight. Mr. Terrific's shade is at Ted's side then saying, "You're out of your mind, Grant. Run away. Now. Find Green Lantern ... he's used to carrying you." Atom is at Ted's other side and says, "... Ted, much as I enjoy your company ... this can wait!" The little fighter's voice raises to a shout. Ted mutters, "Shaddap." Then says to Bane, "That will be quite acceptable. I ... didn't expect you to be so ... respectful." Bane raises his fists and balls them with a power that sets his knuckles to cracking. His brows visibly furrow beneath his luchador's mask then as he simply nods, replying,"I've had years to develop appreciation for its worth, much like yourself. Breaking warriors is what I do. I tried to walk the path of a defender, not even the Bat would suffer it. So come then. Let us test your mettle." Bane takes a step forward, fists presented wide as he effectively occupies an entire section of the ring with his breadth. He would hold for the moment, letting the defender decide if he was up for taking the offense. Ted Grant moves in fast. Use your speed, close in on the bigger opponent. Otherwise their reach advantage will cut you to ribbons. Waiting for them to make a misstep was another track but Ted is sure Bane will not make a mistake ... yet. He has confidence yes. He'd be a braggart except he has done everything he said he has. Ted rushes the giant and tries to get in close under his left arm to deliver a punch to the ribs. Bane presented a large target for just this reason. Boxing versus wrestling. Except Bane is more than a wrestler. He's a self taught street fighter, honed in one of the worst prisons on earth that he once called home. He steps to the side, skirting the ring while opening a palm to attempt stiff-arming Ted in the bicep. He's endeavoring to dodge while unbalancing his opponent. He doesn't go for the grapple this time, instead taking the senior warrior's measure. How long has he been clean this time? The sobriety with which he is observing suggests a while. Ted Grant gets stiff armed, stopping his punch dead. He covers his surprise with a kick to Bane's face, an attempt to feint and back off to study his foe a little and head off whatever move Bane has in mind. He fought Solomon Grundy. Grundy though was all size and strength. Ted would have to forget his moves for Grundy. Bane was more dangerous. Ted settles into a semi-erect stance, ready to bolt in any direction and goes defensive. Mr. Terrific says, "You never beat Grundy either, champ." Sloane always omitted the capital every time he said 'Champ.' It was galling. A voice from the past comes from outside the ring, watching the two. A tall, dark haired woman with arms crossed over her chest. Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons staring into Ted's soul it would seem. "Just like a man. Always trying to prove something to the world. Why?" Bane takes the kick to the side of his head, turning away from it to avoid a broken nose. His neck is as broad as a bulldog's, ensuring that nothing would sprain in the process from this first landed blow. Bane begins his advance when Ted cedes the offense. The ring shudders slightly as he marches forward in emphasis of an upward arcing fist targeting Ted's abdomen. Bane hasn't missed his posture, for no sooner will this motion be complete than a follow up bear-punch be whooshing across horizontally at head level to account for a sideways dodge. Ted Grant has many teachers to draw on. In this case he chooses Tony his dance and parkour instructor. As he spots the punch coming in he bends backwards at the waist and knees doing a backflip and hoping to catch Bane with one or more feet. "Not worth Shiva's time? Screw her!" The pugilist thinks. He realizes too late ... "I fucking knew it. Why'd we let him into the JSA? We could have a dog or a monkey!" Atom snaps, "We already had you! Teddy, you're ..." ... overextending. He was taking too long on the flip. He wasn't Nightwing. In fact it was nearly perfect but ... nearly perfect could get you killed as bad as lousy. "Polly, what the hell are you doing here? You ain't dead!" Ted yells from a handstand. Bane takes the kick from both feet, his head snapping back from the artful delivery. The follow-up blow that misses due to the unexpected counter will become a grab. He'd take hold of an ankle, whipping the champion across the ring! Bane snarls, a wetspot in his mask suggesting he might have bitten something,"Live in the present or die!” Hippolyta smiles, "One doesn't have to be dead to be a ghost to another. Now pay attention. I've seen students better focused." Ted Grant feels the huge hand on his shin ... correction, around his shin, and arches his whole body, trying to twist around and grab the massive arm to break free. The luchador's strength is enormous. He will try to grab Bane around the bicep and use every bit of strength to pull his leg free. At the same time he tries a nerve pinch on the arm to weaken it at least for a moment. Blood is already starting to rush to his head from his exertions and being swung about. Time seems to slow to a crawl. Everything stands still for a moment. Atom stands on tip toe next to Wildcat and says, "Let us go Teddy. We're killing you! It isn't fair. We deserve a rest. Your time ... is not yet ... let us go. You got new friends. You will always have us ... but stop calling us up, dragging us up. This big lug told you straight. Live in the present or die ... was it die then? You were trying to ... you fucking palooka. You were gonna take a walk in the water? Aw Teddy ... Polly! You see this?" Ted is swung around, trying to grab Bane's arm and remember what Dragon said about nerve strikes. Hippolyta nods in agreement with the ghost of Atom. "We're old, Ted Grant. Old, and tired. I know you are too else we wouldn't be here." Her head turns aside looking off into space. "Do you miss us so much you're willing to become a ghost for those you know now? Selfish." Bane has muscles like tempered steel, finding the spots is no easy task but Ted isn't an amateur with tender fingers either. His grip would spasm mid swing when Ted finds the spot between his glove and bracer, another snarl escaping him as he glares with murderous intent at the old boxer. If Ted hasn't released, he's gonna get slammed into the floor of the ring! Through it, if he can manage! Ted Grant pries loose -not nearly fast enough. He gets thrown at the ring. He curls up into a ball, hits and immediately unclenches to roll to his feet. He has too much momentum and back steps to avoid falling on his back. He feels something snap, a rib or two. Then the ghost of an idea forms and instead of checking his backward progress he runs backwards into the ropes of the ring. He slams into them, stretches them back as much as his 240 pounds can. He grins at Bane, no words necessary. He's having fun again. How long has it been? He throws himself even further back as the ropes grown. "Okay. Fair enough!" Wildcat springs forward propelled by his legs and the ropes attempting a two fisted strike into Bane's solar plexus. Bane roars as Ted almost literally turns his assault against him! His favored hand is still numb, so he goes for the next best counter to the Wildcat's counter reaching back in his own memory to his second round with KGBeast. He marches forward then raises a boat of a boot to intercept the flying vigilante, fists spread for balance as he greets him with a kick to the face! Bane growls at him as he marches,"Now here's the man that I read so much about in Santa Prisca!" Ted Grant turns his head barely in time and there is a sickening crunch as his nose is broken. The mask gives him a little protection but he feels his lip smacked and begin to swell. He drives with fists into Bane's solar plexus and if that works attempts to grapple the wrestler's leg and upend him. Ted spits blood out of his mouth and says, "We forgot to establish ... do I have to kill you? Ah never mind. I'll work it out!" Wildcat snarls and pushes with all his might. It's a good strike, a good attack! He might have a collapsed lung in a minute which will surely doom him there's a phone ringing somewhere as it is. It's all in this last push then. And fuck Mr.Terrific for what it's worth! Man of a thousand talents? Too bad stopping a knee to the nuts wasn't one of them. Stuck up prick learned a lesson that match. Bane is surprised that the Wildcat somehow went through that blow, and finds himself hopping backwards to keep from getting floored embarrassingly. He rains blows down at the boxer with a gorilla fist, striking down furiously with hammer blows at his head and shoulders to try and make him release! Then, Bane falls over. Ted is certainly tough enough to up end a four hundred pound bear of a man. Bane growls in reply from the floor of the ring,"Is the world champion a killer? I have nothing to lose, I am what I am but...what are you?" Once more the ghost of Hippolyta speaks up, "A champion for the ages." The blows hurt, despite the padding in his cowl. Ted has gotten hurt before. Sometimes you just have to outlast the big guys and take your hits. He throws the mask back to reveal swollen eyes and a bloody brow. He shakes blood out of his eyes as he slams a foot onto Bane's throat. Ted bears down with all his weight. Not on the larynx which would end any man, no matter how large but on the jugular vein. He's smiling without mirth now. He's hurting. His back, his ribs. Every blow Bane landed is a bill that's come due. He looks down and says simply, "I'm a fighter. Killer is too specific." That damned phone is still ringing. Hippolyta remains there, that ghostly visage of herself standing and looking off into the distant past... A part of the past herself. Her lips open and move, no words coming, as instead she sort of... vanishes. As good old Polly vanishes, a new Polly enters from the back room leading to the apartment upstairs. Tugging off a motorcycle helmet so that her hair spills out, she calls out, "Working late, Ted? You'll never believe what I heard, apparently Bane is back in... town...." Carrie, aka Polly, stands holding her motorcycle helmet in both hands as she stares mouth agape at the two in the ring. "The fuck!?" Bane makes a sound like hocking as his wind closes off, silencing any possible retorts. He returns the favor by removing his own mask, revealing blood smeared around his mouth from the earlier flip kick. Evidently he'd bitten his cheek. His hair is a crew cut over a mostly expressionless face cut from granite and subtly marred with faded cuts from countless fights going back to almost since he could walk. Bane's dark eyes are fearless as he refuses to back down, even under the foot on his throat. He grasps at the ankle of that throat with the same strength that once shattered the Joker's wrist, fortunately Ted's ankle is likely considerably tougher than the laughing man's wrist as he endeavors to remove that foot before...he gasps and rolls to his back with a thud. Ted Grant lets his breath out with a puff. Blood sprays. He slumps a moment and then stands impossibly straight and despite the pain he raises his fists above his head and walks around the ring. Voices are gone for now. Maybe for good. He doesn't even notice Red Robin as he slips between the rope and into his Cat's Post to return a moment later with what looks like a clothing box, and some smelling salts. Ted snaps the capsule under the giant's nose and gets ready to jump back. "Bane, wake up. This is not over," the old boxer says. Carrie Kelley glares daggers at Ted as he walks around focused on the task at hand. She'd seen such behavior before well enough to know he was pushing himself to stay focused too. That, or maybe he thought her to be another one of the ghosts around. Either way... Her gaze flits over the passed out Bane while Ted gets the smelling salts. With a quiet grunt she stalks over to slam her helmet down on the edge of the ring before grabbing the rope and swinging herself up and over into it. "Sit your ass down, Ted," she commands as she moves to take her medkit off her hip while crouching. "I'm not going to ask what was going on." No, she was just going to fix it. "Glad you remembered we're not killers," she adds giving him a LOOK. Hell she was about to help him patch up Bane of all people. Bane snaps his eyes open with a gasp. His dark eyes flicker about before narrowing up at the Wildcat. He replies quietly,"Correct. This isn't over. And..." Bane looks over at the Red Robin, finishing his comment,"We aren't alone." The big man sits up under his own strength. His voice wasn't nearly as deep as it had been earlier, but then he just had a boot on his throat. He endeavors to clear it with a hand rubbing his bulldog neck. Likely the sheer thickness of it saved him as much as anything. Ted Grant doesn't look up from Bane. He says to Red Robin, "Mind your goddam business. You're not my mom or my teacher. I will be with you in a moment." He speaks in a low level tone. He extends a hand to Bane, if he will take it, and says, "The box has the uniform and mask of a man called the Sportsmaster. I got ... many offers for it. Sell it or keep it. Consider it a gift. As for your wager, I will accept the Bat's mask. Judo Master can get his own belt back. You want that water now?" Then he says, "Red Robin ... Bane has done me a solid, whether he knows it or not. He leaves without interference. In a minute ... you get to learn how to fix a busted nose." Bane narrows his eyes up at Ted, then takes the offered hand to get back up to his feet. He knits his brows then as he replies,"The Judo Master won't be collecting. As for the mask, I'll have it delivered. And yes." Bane begins unfastening his bracers with that semi-cryptic reply. Ted would find out fairly easily, if he's interested, that Judomaster was a hero that he killed some years back during the Crisis though another somewhere now wears that name and has an understandable grudge against him. Ted Grant shakes his head and says, "Keep the bracers. Just the mask." Carrie Kelley snorts faintly at the pair and Ted's proclamations. "I'm not going to stop him. He's here with you... I can figure out the rest. Boss is a detective, after all," she points out. Sure there were still a lot of unanswered questions, but... She waits to the side still staring with a scowl at the pair. "I know how, Mr. Grant." If they were being formal, she would be formal, too. It was too late to try and hide that she knew Ted after all. She flips open her medkit running a gloved finger over the contents as if deciding. "Looks like stitches might be needed, too." Bane disregards Ted on that, his bracers falling heavily to the floor of the ring as he replies,"A deal's a deal." Ted Grant wipes some blood from his eyes. Then he gets Bane his water. "You should stop killing people. It doesn't solve anything. I mean in the long run. Obviously the guy you kill is no longer a factor. Here's your drink. Thanks for helping me get right. You better go. Bats travel in swarms I've learned." Ted Grant looks at the bracers and nods. Bows slightly to cover up a wave of dizziness. He wills it away. Carrie Kelley hms quietly, "I'm alone tonight. If he needs time to recover, I can peel. I'm not my Boss." And right now she wasn't about to get in the middle of whatever idiotic stunt Ted was up to. Bane takes his water with a nod to Ted and Carrie. He won't reply to the attempt at advice, but he would collect his trench on the way out. Donning his trench and pocketing his mask, Bane declines lingering in favor of discretion. When you cut as large a profile as his, it's difficult not to be noticed after all. Ted Grant lets a deep breath out. He turns to Red Robin and kneels before her he tries to take her hands if she'll let him. "Sweetie, we got to talk ... I haven't been right a long time and ... I know you guys have been looking out for 'Uncle Ted'. That can stop. I love you for it but that has to stop. I've been playing a clown for a while because I figured I was outclassed and I might as well give some laughs and I've been living in the past. That's going to stop too. I ... laid a lot of ghosts to rest tonight." Ted looks a little embarrassed as he says, "Maybe we can ... share the name if you still want it? I mean there was two Flashes, Lanterns, a shit ton of Robins …" Carrie Kelley allows him to take hold of her hands while watching him with concern evident in her features. Even as he speaks she searches his face for signs of being unwell, or injured, or... Or just being a big dummy apparently. A breath is let out as she leans forward to bump her forehead against his. It was an odd gesture she'd picked up in her time, but one she always felt was a bit comforting. Kind of like a cat headbutting... Oh. Well that explains it. "Ted, I'm not in any rush to take on a new mask. I'm still trying to figure out who the hell I want to be in this world." Standing up straight again she flashes him a smile. "We can work things out, yeah? Just talk to me about things. ... I'm kept in the dark way too much." Ted says, “Well, you got the Bat and 'Wing that excel at that shit. That's the guy you should worry about. He keeps everything bottled up and one day he might go nuts and ... oh wait." He chuckles a little. "Now, seriously ... put my nose straight."” Carrie Kelley sighs a bit at that. She plants a hand on Ted's shoulder as if she intended to look him straight in the eye, which she does. "Ted, there's something you should know. You see, I-" It's here, when she has his attention fixed on her, that her other hand comes up to catch hold of his nose giving it a crack back into place. Of course she'd set bones before, even noses, and she knew distraction was usually a good tactic. "I'm still pissed at you pulling this stunt but I'm glad you're okay. And The Boss has his heirs, I can do what I want." Ted Grant lets his breath out slowly. He sniffs a little. "I never got my nose broken in all this time. I guess I owed Bane that. Listen. I don't want you lying to your boss about nothing. You can tell him whatever you want. Not like he hasn't let a certain jewel thief go walking. So ... after you tape my ribs, do you want to go hit a diner? Night's young." Carrie Kelley offers up a bit of a smile at Ted's suggestion. "... Yeah, I could eat," she agrees with a nod as she fishes into her medkit. "Want any pain killers?" She halfway knew the answer to that, but it's not like her to not offer anyway. "Let's get you patched up." Ted says, “Aspirin.”